The Cowboy and the Angel (32 page)

“Thank you, doctor,” Sydney said.

The doctor looked her way before looking back at Derek. “Any more questions for me? No? Then I’ll send the nurse in to take out your IV and start getting you ready for discharge.”

Derek nodded as the doctor exited and turned back to Sydney. “Angela?” He wasn’t letting her run away.

A
NGELA STARED AT
the boxes on her bed. She couldn’t stay at the ranch. She needed to find a way to rectify this situation, but she couldn’t expect Mike’s generosity when they suspected her of lying to them. She packed her meager belongings and needed to inform her father to be ready to leave.

She probably should have left last night, but she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving without seeing Derek one last time. She had to know he was all right, and no one but Silvie seemed inclined to speak to her. How could she explain her decision to leave, at least until she killed the story? She worried that Derek wouldn’t believe her, either. Why should he? The very thing she’d set out to do had happened and she’d as much as incriminated herself from the beginning with her talk of ratings and anchor positions for controversial stories. How could she have ever been so blind as to even consider selling her soul for a future she never really wanted, sacrificing relationships and the lives of others to further her own?

There was a knock at the door. “Come in, Dad.”

“It’s me.” Silvie poked her head around the door.

Angela fought the tears that sprang to her eyes. Had it been anyone else, she could have reached for the bitter anger that seemed to surround her heart since Derek’s accident as she shouldered a new guilt and shame. Silvie had only looked her way with sympathetic eyes.

“What’s all this?” Silvie looked around at the boxes at the foot of Angela’s bed.

“I think it’s better if I leave. I need to somehow get this story off the air and I can’t do that here.”

“Hmm, I see.” She sat on the side of the bed and folded her hands in her lap. “Have you told anyone else?”

Angela smiled sadly. “No one else is talking to me.”

“So, about this story?” There was no note of condemnation or judgment in her question, but Angela felt shame smother her and turned her back on Silvie.

“I don’t even care about the story. And the story they’re airing isn’t mine.” She met Silvie’s gaze, praying the woman would believe her.

“Then why in the world would you leave?”

“I can’t stay here, Silvie. Everyone thinks I’ve lied about it and used Derek to get information.”

“Have you?” Silvie’s gaze was intent, but held no blame.

Tears sprang to Angela’s eyes. “I care about him, Silvie. I never meant to, but I do.”

Silvie smiled and wrapped her arms around Angela. “Aw, Angie, I know that. So does Mike.” She ran her hands over Angela’s head, soothing her like a mother would her child. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix all of this and you don’t need to go anywhere. Besides, I need your help.”

“Me?” Angela pulled away from the housekeeper’s comforting embrace.

“Well, everyone else is going to need to do more work since Derek will be laid up for six weeks. Clay and Scott will have to run the rest of the rodeos with Mike. Jen will be doing double duty around here, and Sydney will be at the rodeos, so I’ll be taking care of both babies and Derek. That’s an awful lot for an old woman like me.”

Silvie’s eyes gleamed and Angela recognized a guilt trip when she heard one. It might have worked flawlessly if it hadn’t been for the fact that staying would mean falling even further in love with a man who thought she’d used him. Her heart lurched against her chest at the thought of seeing him today.

Angela shook her head. “I can’t. I just . . . I can’t.”

Silvie pursed her lips. “I see.” She brushed her hands over her thighs and stood up.

“I have to stop this story from airing.” A tear slipped down Angela’s cheek and she swiped at it quickly.

“And you can’t do that from here?” She tilted her head to the side. “Don’t you think he deserves to hear your side directly from you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Then why are you really leaving?”

“Because I can’t lose him.” Silvie looked at her, thoroughly confused. “I can’t face him when he looks at me and believes the worst. He’ll believe I lied, Silvie . . .”

Silvie laughed quietly and patted her shoulder. “Honey, you’re not going to lose that boy. I raised a smart man, and he’s so head over heels for you that nothing would make him believe that.”

“Silvie, you don’t understand. When I first came, I
was
using him, all of you,” Angela admitted, hating the woman she’d been only a short time ago.

Silvie laughed out loud. “We knew that, too. You’re not nearly as sly as you think you are.” She tapped Angela’s cheek. “Life is full of unplanned and unexpected moments. Some good, like falling in love when you least expect it, and some”—she paused as she touched Angela’s necklace—“well, some aren’t so good. But you get through the bad times because the good times are worth fighting for.”

She stood and headed toward the door. “I’ve seen the way you look at that boy. And I’ve seen the way he looks at you. If you give it a chance, it will be worth any bad you face because you’ll face it together.”

T
HE TRUCK PULLED
down the driveway and Derek cursed every divot and pothole in the gravel, holding a hand to his ribcage. He glanced over at Sydney. “Why are you being so close-lipped about Angela?”

“She’s at the ranch, for now.”

“What does that mean?” He wasn’t sure if she sounded bitter or disappointed. While it disappointed him that she hadn’t come to the hospital, it hadn’t surprised him. He knew she still hadn’t dealt with her mother’s death, hadn’t even gone to the hospital then.

“According to Scott, she’s planning on leaving.” Sydney’s declaration shocked him from his thoughts.

He clenched is jaw tightly, frustrated that she couldn’t give him more than a few words at a time. “Did she say why?”

“The story is ready to air.” Her voice was tense and he could tell she wanted to say more but was refraining.

He was tired of this game and stared out the window. This wasn’t like Sydney, so he knew something was wrong, and it obviously involved Angela. He turned his mind back to the morning they’d spent together, just before he’d gotten hurt.

We need to talk.

He’d promised her they would talk that night, but they’d never had the opportunity. She’d sounded so somber at the time, and he’d been late to get ready for the rodeo so he hadn’t wanted to talk. He wasn’t ready to hear her regrets over what they shared the night before. Was that why she wanted to leave now? Or was Joe right, and now that she had her story, she had no further use for him?

A
NGELA STARED OUT
the window as Sydney’s truck pulled into the driveway, watching from a distance as Scott and Clay helped Derek out of the car. Mike grabbed the small bag the hospital provided from the backseat as she saw him disappear onto the porch beneath her. Had anyone spoken, she could have heard every word. Instead, the strained silence was deafening.

She looked back at the boxes by the bed. She should have taken them down to the car already, but after her conversation with Silvie, she felt guilty for leaving. She heard the awkward clunk of clumsy steps on the staircase as her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and saw Joe’s number. As much as she needed to talk with Derek, it might be better to let him get settled into his room. She bit her lip, refusing to entertain the thought that she might actually be stalling, hoping that she’d convince herself to stay at least one more night.

“Yes?” she answered. She hadn’t figure out how to kill the story yet and was waiting on a call back from Skip. She had to know what part he’d played in falsifying the footage. Joe didn’t know she’d heard the advertisement.

“I haven’t heard from you. How’s your cowboy doing?”

She felt the bite of suspicion in her belly. “I guess that depends.”

“Is he still in the hospital?” She could tell he was trying to lead her into a discussion about Derek, and she wasn’t about to let him manipulate the conversation. She didn’t want to talk to him about Derek, or the fact that he’d nearly died.

She feigned boredom. “I guess.”

“You guess?” She could tell by his voice he wasn’t buying her act. “Your new ‘boyfriend’ is knocked from his horse and almost gored, and you don’t know if he’s still in the hospital?”

“He is not my boyfriend. Why would you care anyway? It sounds like you have your
story
after all.” She spit the words out like they were venom.

“Skip got some great footage. He showed me some of the raw clips last night. It’s great!”

So, Skip was involved. She felt bile rise in her throat and her stomach clenched at the thought of watching the footage of Derek’s attack. She swallowed, disgusted by the enthusiasm she heard in Joe’s voice and the pleasure he was taking in the brutality of it.

“So, you can head back now. The story will air Monday.”

She hated the arrogant tone of his voice and wondered if he was more pleased with his falsified story or because Derek had been hurt. “So I hear. I heard your teaser on the radio.”

Joe grew quiet, and she could almost feel his tension mounting through the receiver. He cleared his throat. “That was done before you changed your story. We can change it. But you need to get back here, Gigi.”

“I have another week’s vacation time coming. You have your story.”

“They don’t like you being gone this long, Gigi. They’re talking about . . . never mind.”

“What? What are ‘they’ going to do?” She didn’t even care about holding back her temper any longer. “And who is ‘they,’ Joe? Are you sure you don’t mean
you
? I’ll be back when I get back, and the more you push, the more I’ll think about taking
my
story, the
real
story elsewhere.” She ended the call without waiting to see what he might say, hoping he wouldn’t call her bluff and fire her.

D
EREK COULDN’T HELP
but hear the conversation through his closed door. It wasn’t like Angela was trying to be quiet, but he knew he should have at least tried not to listen. He glanced at his brother, who had remained in the room after Jennifer and Clay headed downstairs, pretending to ignore the conversation they could all hear.

“What do you think that’s about?”

“We both know what it’s about.” Derek tried to take a deep breath but grimaced and reached for his side, scooting into a more comfortable seated position against the headboard of his bed. “Are you mad at her too?” Derek knew that his brother didn’t trust easily and wasn’t sure where he stood on Angela now.

Scott frowned and shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“If I’m not mad, why are you?”

“How are you not mad?” Scott shook his head. “You really don’t think she used you, or us?”

He couldn’t help the agony worming into his heart, squeezing at his chest worse than any pain in his side. The entire conversation they’d overheard could be a ruse, but he wouldn’t know until he saw her. He wanted to reserve any judgment until then. “It’s what I’ve worried about since she first wanted to interview Mike. But my gut tells me she’s being honest.”

“Yeah, well . . .” Scott shook his head, not finishing his thought out loud. Derek didn’t need him to. He knew exactly what Scott was thinking—this wasn’t the first time his gut was wrong.

A
NGELA STEPPED INTO
the hall as Scott closed Derek’s door quietly behind him. He looked up, meeting her eyes, and she could easily read the hostility in them. His jaw clenched as he brushed past her without a word and headed down the stairs. She stared at the door, desperately wanting to talk with Derek, to see him less broken than she had at the rodeo, to rid herself of the image of his beaten and bloody body that had haunted her.

Her hand fell on the knob, but she pulled it back as if the metal were molten. She couldn’t face him yet. She had to make some decisions before she saw him. Regret choked her, stealing her apology for avoiding the hospital. Her chest constricted, squeezing the breath from her lungs, and panic began to creep in. She pressed her hand against her chest, trying to still the pounding of her heart against her ribs. She needed air.

Her boots clapped against the wooden stairs as she hurried out the front door. She wanted to run, but there was nowhere to hide that wouldn’t make her think of Derek. She looked for somewhere she wouldn’t be forced to face the judgmental eyes of his family, where she could allow her burning tears to fall freely. She caught a glimpse of her father in the main aisle of the barn, pushing a wheelbarrow. The shock of seeing her father doing manual labor was enough to shake the panic threatening to overtake her.

“Dad?” She started toward the barn, ignoring the slam of the screen door as someone exited the house behind her. “Dad?” she called again.

He turned as she reached him and a wide smile split his face. She couldn’t remember her father ever being this happy or smiling as much as he had since bringing him to the rodeo, unless it was induced by too much alcohol. “Angie-girl, I was wondered where you’d disappeared to once we got back.”

She furrowed her brow, trying to figure out why he was cleaning stalls. “I was packing. We’re leaving remember? What are you doing?”

He wrung his hands around the pitchfork nervously and frowned. “We need to talk.” He sat on the bales of straw near the stalls and patted the spot beside him. “Mike offered me a job and I think I’m gonna take it.”

She opened her mouth, but he wouldn’t let her speak. “I know what you’re gonna say, and you’re not wrong. I haven’t been the best father. In fact, I’ve been a terrible father.”

“Dad . . .” She wanted to disagree with him but couldn’t bring herself to argue with his honest assessment.

“Mike and I talked a lot at the rodeo last weekend. It’s time I let you live your life and I need to take care of myself. I haven’t had a drink since you bailed me out.” He glanced at her to gauge her reaction, but she could see the glimmer of pride in his watery brown eyes.